The Italian Guarantee
by irma66
Summary: Patience has never been Veronica's strong suit, and right now, she would try just about anything to get what she wants.


"Do you need me to get your salad, Supafly?"

Wallace put his own plate down on the table as he tipped his head to the remaining empty plate on the table. "I understand if you don't want to get it yourself, but I can do it for you if you want. I'm sure the doctor wants to keep you off your feet as much as possible."

"No, actually," Veronica began before she was interrupted by Mac's laughter as she sat down with her own salad plate across the table from Veronica.

"How long have you known this woman? You think she's having salad bar and taking up valuable pizza space in her stomach?" She smirked at Veronica and shook her head. "His impending uncle-hood is messing with his brain."

Veronica nodded and laughed with her, before grimacing and pushing the heel of her hand against the banging from inside her bulging abdomen. "The doctor recommended walking actually, as a way to move things along. And Mac's right about the salad; that plate's Logan's, not mine."

"If you're a Mars, you're here for pizza," Keith said as he approached the table. "We don't believe in shrubbery when there's serious eating to be done." He put a tray of glasses on the table and sat next to Mac.

"And if you're everyone else, you don't mind food from the base of the food pyramid," Logan chimed in as he put a pitcher of beer next to the tray. He moved behind Veronica and leaned in to kiss the top of her head, then grabbed his plate and headed for the salad bar.

"I don't know why he can't accept maraschino cherries for the fruit that they are," Veronica said loudly and Logan's amused snort rang back to them.

"Truthfully, I think there might be shrubbery on this pizza you came here for," Mac said, picking up a menu. "Let's see." She hummed as she munched on a bite of salad and read the list of ingredients. "Okay, no, I was wrong. Prego Pizza just has the normal toppings, but there's a lot of them. Salami, pepperoni, ham, mushrooms, olives, bell peppers, _extra_ onions, sausage, ground beef, linguisa, _extra_ garlic, parmesan, and oregano." She looked up from the menu. "My pizza's got all kinds of fancy veggies, but there's jut the basics on this one."

"And no cheese on yours" Wallace said around his own mouthful of shrubbery. "How do you eat pizza without cheese?"

"Pay attention, you'll see." Mac took another bite and made an appreciative noise. Veronica snickered and rolled her eyes, then groaned and moved her hand to push against another impact point.

"If I believed in spanking, this kid would get it as soon as she's out."

"I think the doctor takes care of that for you," Keith joked and Veronica huffed in annoyance, but her friends laughed.

"Really, that just sounds like a combo to me," Wallace interjected, not deterred from the pizza discussion. "I don't get how a combination pizza is supposed to induce labor."

"I don't know," Veronica replied, "and I don't care. I'm just done being pregnant. They told me forty weeks. It's been forty-one. It's time." She flattened both hands against the sides of her stomach and tipped her face down to speak directly to her bump. "Do you hear me, child? Get out."

"Don't speak to my granddaughter that way," Keith said as he poured Wallace a beer. Mac shook her head with a frown.

"So are we sure about a girl now? I thought you weren't going to find out ahead."

"Dad and Logan are certain it's a girl in there." Veronica rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I'm surprised, frankly, that that's what they're putting out there into the universe. This one especially—" she jerked a thumb at Keith "—knows how much trouble a girl can be."

"You forget, I knew Logan as a child also," Keith chided. "Trust me. Any offspring of the two of you, boy or girl, is going to be trouble. But I get to send her, or him, back to you when they're difficult. I get the fun grandpa spoiling stuff with none of the pesky rule enforcement."

"Fun uncle," said Wallace, raising his hand.

"Fun aunt." Mac raised her hand also.

"And Logan will be the fun parent, leaving me as the only disciplinarian in this whole group." Veronica leaned back in her chair and began to poke her index fingers in alternating time against her stomach. "I'm so screwed."

"Umm, Veronica?" Mac had the menu in her hand again. "This labor-inducing guarantee. Did you actually read it?"

Logan returned then, and slid into his chair beside Veronica. "Don't dash her hopes, Mac."

"Why? What does it say?" she demanded, then glared at Logan. "Did you read it?"

He nodded. "Uh huh. But it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, cuz you're not the one with a baby on board. What does it say, Mac?"

"Well, the top line, in pretty big print, says, 'Italian Guarantee: Pregnant women will definitely give birth after eating the Prego Pizza', and then on the next line, in slightly smaller print, 'at some point in the future'."

Veronica's mouth fell open. "At some point in the future?" She framed her hands around the bump. "At some point in the future? Anyone looking at me would be able to guarantee that."

Wallace and Keith laughed as Logan rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "She'll come when she's ready. I know you're uncomfort—"

"Don't start." She drew in a deep breath and held it, eyes rolled up to the ceiling, then let it out noisily. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He kissed her temple and went back to his salad.

"So walking is helpful?" Mac asked, then a voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Number 37, your garlic cheese bread is ready, number 37."

"I'll get it," Keith said and headed for the counter.

"Yeah, supposedly, but it's not working," Veronica said. "Nothing is working."

"I heard that...sex, is helpful," Mac said, her voice lowering at 'sex'. Wallace's head shot up from his salad, his nose wrinkled in distaste. Logan just chuckled and continued to eat.

"Believe me, I know," Veronica said, shaking her head. "We've been doing it every day for the last two weeks." Wallace shuddered and made a pained noise. "I made him do me twice today already."

"Oh, hell no," Wallace said.

Logan laughed loudly.

And Keith said, "That's probably TMI, darling daughter," as the plate of garlic cheese bread clattered onto the table in front her.

Logan turned red as his laughter choked off and Wallace began to cackle instead. Veronica could feel her own face grow hot with embarrassment. Mac caught her eye, shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh.

"I think walking's looking pretty darn good right now, eh, V?"

* * *

_I saw reference to a labor-inducing pizza, made by Skipolini's Pizza in Northern California, in a newspaper article and, as frequently occurs, my brain immediately wanted to fit Veronica and the gang into that pizza parlor. In case you're in need, and in the vicinity, you can learn more at skipolinispizza dot com slash prego dot php._


End file.
